From the neck down, Central McClellion looked like a mummy, not a cornerback. McClellion was an undrafted rookie out of Ohio State who had the good fortune to be signed by the Cleveland Browns and the bad luck to join an expansion team stocked with ornery veterans.

Near the end of 1999 training camp, he found himself stuck to a practice-field goalpost, a few yards from the giant door that is the traffic center of the team complex.

A few veterans had rassled up a month’s supply of ankle tape and used it to wrap McClellion to the post. People came and went through the door, many of them laughing.

They are secret rites, widely accepted. Only now are the rules of the rites becoming clearer: Don’t get too stupid.

Something monumental has storm-tossed Miami.

It has put players so in mind of the 1,000 faces of rookie hazing that one almost forgets Jonathan Martin isn’t a rookie.

By now, Martin is a more conspicuous NFL sophomore than Andrew Luck, Robert Griffin III and Trent Richardson combined.

Richie Incognito, meanwhile, has bought himself 15 years of infamy.

What happened between them is a developing story with tentacles that sprout here, grow there, get weird there, and ugly there.

In our little corner of the NFL universe, Berea, we have learned at least two things from the story. One, players who weren’t already became cautious about wrecking their careers with practical jokes, even tame ones.

Two, players are reluctant to paint Incognito as a monster.

Browns guard Shawn Lauvao, who plays the same position as Incognito, shared his take on Incognito early in the week, before some of the allegations against him got uglier.

“You never want anybody to be bullied or see race involved, so that was definitely touchy.”

Martin and Incognito both started all 16 games together on the Dolphins’ offensive line in 2012. When the Browns opened their season Sept. 8, they lined up against a Miami offense that had Incognito, 30, at left guard, and Martin, 24, at left tackle.

The controversy in South Florida, which has blown in just as the Dolphins are preparing for a Monday Night Football game, put many of the Browns in mind of their rookie years.

Page 2 of 3 - Quarterback Jason Campbell says he had to buy food for linemen when he was a Washington rookie in 2005.

Left tackle Joe Thomas, the captain of the offense, said nothing heinous happened to him when he was a rookie, and nothing ridiculous has crept into initiations he has witnessed during his seven Cleveland years.

Defensive captain D’Qwell Jackson recalls veterans Willie McGinest and Ted Washington as initiation ringleaders when he was a rookie in 2006. They would join rookies at expensive restaurants and wait for them to pick up the tabs.

“Champagne, nice steaks, great places to eat ... those guys had expensive tastes,” Jackson said. “It was all in fun. It’s something you tell your kids and grandkids about.”

Jackson is a 235-pound linebacker. Washington was a 350-pound nose tackle.

“It was my job to make sure Teddy had Red Bull to drink throughout the entire year,” Jackson said. “When the supply got a little low, it was my job to fill it up. At the time it got a little annoying, but ... it was all in fun.

“We still keep in touch to this day.”

Asked if he ever saw a teammate taped to a goal post, Jackson would only say, “My rookie year, I was afraid to walk in the locker room.”

One of the Browns’ training camp traditions had been throwing rookies in icy “cold tubs.” In 2009, rookie Coye Francies went ballistic when he got tossed.